


lover's spit

by pyoilu



Category: Madtown (Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Growing Up Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8367631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyoilu/pseuds/pyoilu
Summary: they've grown up together, from children to young men, and though Daewon feels he can tell Kyungtak anything, it seems there's just one secret he can't reveal. [the first of many installments, though this can easily be read as a stand-alone]





	

**Author's Note:**

> You’re the only friend I need  
> Sharing beds like little kids  
> Laughing ‘til our ribs get tough  
> But that will never be enough  
> \- Ribs, Lorde

'Do you like me?’

 

Daewon might have startled had he not been expecting it. Standing by the bathroom mirror wiping wet hands dry on the front of his jeans, he nodded. But that wasn’t enough.

 

Kyungtak leaned against the bathroom stall, his tired eyes falling shut then fluttering open again. He’d had two glasses of beer—not much, but enough—and he was smiling in that dopey, boyish way that made Daewon’s insides burn.

 

'Daewon-ah,’ he whined.

 

'Yeah, yes—’ Daewon tripped over his own feet as he reached for the bathroom door. 'I like you, Kyung-ah. Don’t worry.’

 

'I feel…’

 

'You’re fine.’

 

’…annoying.’

 

Daewon sighed. 'You’re not.’

 

'I’m tired.’

 

He touched Kyungtak’s shoulder, willed him to come closer, to fall into his side and away from the dirty stall door.

 

'Think Sangbae hyung will be upset if we leave early?’ he asked.

 

Daewon told him, 'I don’t think so.’ Then, quietly, 'It doesn’t matter anyway.’

 

They left the restaurant without saying goodbye, not even bothering to tell Heojun who had been by the entrance, leaned up against the jukebox bickering with Juhyeon over the next song to play. He’d noticed them leaving, had opened his mouth as if to say something, but Daewon let the door close behind them without staying to listen.

 

It was obvious something was wrong.

 

Kyungtak, never having learned to keep his emotions inside and away from his face, sauntered with a slope in his shoulders and his mouth bitten into a frown. He bumped against Daewon’s side once or twice, feet small but still nimble; he tripped a couple times.

 

'Do you wanna talk about it?’ Daewon asked after they’d passed the laundry mat, the payphones, the subway station steps with its litter of chewed gum and discolored hand railings. He’d had thought for a moment that Kyungtak would say goodnight, grab the next train to Jonghwa’s and that would be the end of it. But his eyes never lifted from his feet; it didn’t seem he’d even noticed when they’d reached their neighborhood.

 

'Talk about what?’ Kyungtak asked. It was as if his despondency was trivial, or that he wanted it to appear that way. He dared with a knowing smile for Daewon to press on, see what would happen, but ten years of friendship and Daewon knew when to quit.

 

He shook his head and tipped his face to the ground. 'Never mind.’

 

'Can I come home with you?’ Then, adding quickly as if afraid Daewon would turn him away: 'I forgot my house key in my backpack.’

 

'What about school tomorrow?’

 

'What about it.’

 

'Your stuff.’

 

Kyungtak shrugged. 'I’ll climb through the window. Parents won’t be home then.’ He offered a smile both exhausted and charming, his face enveloped in a brightness that made his eyes sparkle. But it quickly dimmed away.

 

And because he was so cute and his sadness so poorly concealed, Daewon put his arm quickly about Kyungtak’s shoulders. He said happily, ’ _Yah_ , why are you even asking?’ He made sure to nudge his nose into the softness of Kyungtak’s cheek, knowing it was closeness he needed. But he ignored the festering in the pit of his stomach, how—this close—it felt like his whole body had gone numb. Short of breath and his heart thrumming wildly inside his ears, Daewon ignored the pangs in his chest and the yearning at the back of his head that told him to press closer, to kiss Kyungtak’s mouth until he wasn’t frowning anymore.

 

He sighed. A gentle gust of breath, warm against the side of Kyungtak’s face.

 

Then, like so many times before, they walked briskly up the drive and to Daewon’s front door that stood only 25 meters from Kyungtak’s own. And through the darkness of the living room, the kitchen, up the stairs that creaked under their conjoined weight, Daewon didn’t lead so much as he was led: Kyungtak knowing all the corners of Daewon’s house almost as well as his own.

 

He knew before they reached his bedroom that once inside, Kyungtak would shy away and fall into himself as he so often did when left in a darkness he didn’t have to force a smile in, but it was still surprising when Daewon closed the door and Kyungtak slipped out of his jeans and then fell into the bed, curling beneath covers that concealed him perfectly. He was so small he disappeared instantly.

 

'Kyung-ah…’

 

'I’m tired,’ he muttered again, soft and far away. But he poked his head out of the blankets and patted the spot beside him. A beckoning if Daewon ever saw one. 'Sleep with me?’

 

Daewon’s stomach turned. He smiled briefly. 'Sure.’ But once in bed, having stripped himself of his dirty jeans, he felt the press of Kyungtak’s bare legs against his own and all the hairs along his arms prickled uncomfortably.

 

'What is it?’ Kyungtak murmured. He had his face buried against the warmth of Daewon’s chest.

 

And when Daewon muttered back, promising nothing was wrong, it was so obviously a lie he felt his ears burn beneath his hair. But Kyungtak only hummed, bringing himself closer with his arms about Daewon’s middle, his breath bursting damp through his cotton t-shirt. But it wasn’t a surprise, not in the slightest, that Kyungtak didn’t press further and Daewon didn’t bother to budge and explain that sometimes his heart pulsed so deeply when Kyungtak was near, he felt he’d die. It was easier to play pretend than break the comfort they’d spent a decade building.

 

'Do you like me?’ Kyungtak whispered, half asleep and falling fast.

 

'I told you, remember?’ Daewon shook him gently, teasing with a soft laugh. 'You forget already?’ He could feel Kyungtak smiling against his chest.

 

'I just wanna hear you say it again.’

 

But it wasn’t until after Kyungtak’s grip loosened, his heart beating rhythmically inside his frail and thin chest; fast asleep and probably dreaming, that Daewon nosed against his cheek, feeling the swell of his own heart. He wouldn’t say it out loud, could barely let himself think it but for once he allowed it, and he thought simply: _I love you, can’t you tell?_


End file.
